


An Enchanting Path

by abeyance



Category: Captain Swan - Fandom, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, F/M, OUAT - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeyance/pseuds/abeyance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You jog past by my house shirtless every morning" AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting Plan

The first time she caught sight of him was on a Monday morning at exact 7:43 A.M. Upon the walls of stacked moving boxes, Emma peered out the window through the spaces in between. She couldn’t help but watch him pass, toned muscular chest with a dark head of sweaty bed hair…she was aware he got much attention for the attractive looks.

The funny part was, she wanted _his_ attention. Although it was the feeling she got when ever seeing someone attractive, he was somehow different. In the few seconds of him jogging past her house, she didn’t only contemplate texting her friend Mary Margret with a, “S.O.S.: Hot Guy” alert, but go out there and pretend to get the mail or something. But after a glance of her Santa-SpongeBob pajama pants, it was out of the question.

Usually, back in Boston, Emma would be able to locate up to five enjoyable-to-the-eye guys pass her shared apartment a day. She would later note it to Mary Margret, her roommate, and they would point out their spotted guys’ Pros and Cons at dinner. She realized how boring it was with take out and one placemat on the table her first night in her own place. When she saw the place for sale, she didn’t take note that the town it was located in was not on the map. It resulted in an extra hour or so driving through every road in a random forest until coming across the briefly welcoming sign stating, “Welcome to Storybrooke.”

So that first day all she did was sneak a following eye through the cracks of boxes she had yet to unpack.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning was the second time she saw him pass. The night before she made the move to unpack her clothes first, letting her have the option to go outside in less embarrassing wear. It didn’t mean she took it.

Cursing herself as he passed, she checked the time, which read 7:41. Now knowing she wasted her morning because of a daily jogger, she looked around her boxed living room. Not feeling any spark in energy, she went back to bed.

 

* * *

 

 

On Wednesday, she knew to do it. The last night she stayed up planning this morning. She would go out there. She would let this man know she existed. And it would happen when she took her quarter-filled trash can outside to the curb.

At exactly 7:40 A.M., Emma marched outside with her mini garbage bag. Hiding behind her garage wall, she waited for the soft tapping sound of sneakers hitting the pavement. She over thought some sounds once or twice, thinking it was him when a rabbit would hop across her driveway.

And then, at 7:48, when she was about to give up, a gentle _tap, tap, tap,_ echoed down the street and up her driveway. He appeared out of the row of bushes that guarded her neighbors’ lawn, and soon enough, she started to take her first step forward.

And then retreated it back to her side.

“Dammit.” Emma cursed herself, making her way inside. She blew hair out of her face as she started to get her ingredients out for her famous “Regret Pancakes”, the ones she and Mary Margret would make every time the other did something stupid.

Realizing she spent her packing hours with her clothes and not kitchen supply, she plopped into a foldable field-chair. Emma knew moving would be hard, but she never expected to increase the level of stress with a jogger. But then she reminded herself— _a hot jogger_. Ignoring the idea to call Mary Margret because she knew her former-roommate would still be asleep, Emma took another go at unpacking.

What the hell was she supposed to do with the empty boxes? Emma officially admitted that moving was too stressful for her overthinking mind. Although her years spent in foster homes should have given her an idea of what to do next, a small backpack compared to multiple boxes would not do her any good.

Giving up once again, Emma threw the boxes full of books and frames to the side. She remained with her dinner of heated pizza and Pepsi and fell asleep on her couch, leaving the wasted day behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day she did not apply any effort into getting his attention. Clearly, fate did not like the idea of Emma and The Mystery Man together, so why try to change its mind? But in the past few days, her sleeping schedule has been affected in a minor manner, in result to her body waking itself up at approximately 6:00 A.M. With a sigh, she swung her legs off the couch and decided to make good use of the time with planning how this unpacking thing would go.

She started with opening all the boxes, and depending on what was in them, she separated into important to least important (A.K.A. “Why didn’t I just leave this with Mary Margret?”) sections of the empty room. Fortunately, her second opening held her iPod and iHome, spraying bliss over Emma’s unpacking and resulting in giving herself a pat on the back.  Although she needed to take time to locate a power plug, her future living room soon vibrated with her latest favorite pop songs.

The music went well with her routine, and furniture soon looked placed in un-awkward positions. Her kitchen already was usable by 7:15. Emma did not take notice of the time, and went on to continue jamming out in the process of her living room. She also did not realize the dark clouds outside, or that her mystery jogger did not pass by the time 7:45 due to a pouring shower outside.

But later, after a small break for brunch, Emma caught the smell of fresh rain and opened her windows. Using a bigger box as a head rest, she brought her tired arms to the surface and placed her chin upon them, taking in the scent of the new rainfall and wet grass. The light from her living room reflected onto her lawn, leaving a shadow she would think be viewed in a movie like Peter Pan. She looked out into her new neighborhood, in this small town of Storybrooke. The town was not even on the map, on any map, but this place was the most welcoming location she’s placed herself. Even including her small, cozy apartment back in Boston, this place may actually be named Home one day.

She almost fell asleep smiling as the frequent _tap, tap, tap,_ of water droplets from the gutter hit her porch.  But soon, another set joined.

_Tap tap, tap, tap tap…_

Her brows closed together.

_Tap tap, tap, tap tap…_

_No…_ she thought. _Its almost 12…._

_Tap tap, tap, tap tap._

The second set got louder and louder, and she shuddered every single time.

 _And there he was_ … appearing from behind her neighbors’ bushes, the man with the toned chest and head full of wet hair, jogged forward. And forward. _And forward_ …and slowed down…and slowed down…and looked at her window… _at her_. At the twenty eight year old orphan staring out the window, moving boxes stacked behind her, gazed…at him.

_“Emma?” Mary Margret asked softly. “Do you believe in Love at First Sight?”_

She slowly formed a gapped mouth and lifted her head off her arms. _Ever so slowly._

The days in the past…the morning she freaked out of the thought of his first glance of her would be in her Santa SpongeBob P.J.’s, and she spent the night unpacking clothes instead food, only to back away anyway. After all those sleepless nights…of the fantasied thoughts of their meeting and future…it all went down to this. Staring at one another, she in her soffe shorts and a college T-Shirt she didn’t even go to, and he shirtless, standing in the aftermaths of rainfall.

“New around here, Love?” he called from across her lawn. _Love_. His voice was so deep and husky and thick with accent…soft and gentle, yet at the same time sharp. Mysterious.

“Y-Yeah” she stuttered. “Four days.” He smiled and nodded. _What a goddamn charming smile…_ he started to walk into his routine again, but called out once more. “Aye, well, Welcome to Storybrooke. You will find it ever so enchanting.” The comment was like a butter knife, spreading warmth up her neck and cheeks and ears, sending tingles in her finger tips like firecrackers. She brought herself to smile back.

“Thanks,” she called back, breathlessly. If he hadn’t turned and started to jog away with a smile, she might’ve grown the courage to ask for his name.

That night she did not fantasize how they met, or their future. She did not even pray to The Lord for them to be endgame. Because even though it was just a smile from him, it was the first smile in this town that she smiled back to. The smile, for in which an unknown reason, helped her remind herself the future was unwritten. No one can predict it, no one can make it, but you can form it. It was a saying that helped her in foster homes, which stopped her from doing something like stealing pop-tarts or running away. Because she knew if she did, it would make her future challenging, and the present day harder. She smiled on top her mattress at the memory. For the first time since arriving, Emma felt relaxed as she fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Emma got an early start the next morning on unpacking. She was going to save all the harder objects for later when she was fully awake. But then, she worked on some picture frames on the mantle and the battery-powered table lamps.

When she walked into her kitchen to make a bowl of cereal, Emma took note that this time; the trash can did need to in fact be emptied. But after a little hesitation, she agreed with herself of the former plan to come back into action. After her cereal, Emma prepared the bag by the door and waited until 7:40. When the time struck, she brought it outside and waited behind her garage wall for the tapping of his shoes.

With a faint sound of it, Emma proceeded to walk slowly down her driveway. The taps got louder as she walked further towards the street. Once he came into view, she started pacing quicker towards the curb. Without unintentional hesitation, her steps broke into a run, a tight smile growing on her mouth. Why was she so excited? So caught up in this man?

Before she could’ve reached the curb, panic struck—she was going down… _falling_ down. Emma realized how she didn’t take note of how chilly it was after the storm the last night, and those calming water drops froze over once making a puddle down her driveway.

“Shit—“ She cursed herself, ignoring the presence of the mysterious jogger coming over. Emma started to get up, but of course with fate’s hands hand on her shoulders, Emma’s feet tangled up and she was on her rear again.

“You need help, lass?” the man quickened his pace to her, offering a helping hand to her.

“Thanks…again,” he let out a chuckle as he pulled Emma off the ice, resulting in an open smile from herself. “I uh…” trying to start a conversation to find out his name, she trailed off as he started to pick the trash bag and the remnants of some bubble-wrap that fell out. “You…really don’t need to do that.” Averting her eye from his chest, this morning covered by a tight shirt, she started to help as well. He caught a glimpse of her many take-out and cereal boxes through the bag.

“You know, there is such a place down on Main Street. Granny’s Diner. She maybe old, but that’s the best Diner within miles. You should try it one day.”

“I’ll… check it out.”

“Love, I am afraid I have not asked your name. May I?” he arched an eyebrow at her, pulling Emma off the edge.

“Emma.” He smiled at hearing it. “Emma Swan.” Once noticing how broad his smile was, she returned. “And you?”

“Oh, please forgive my rudeness. Killian Jones.” Emma threw a pile of bubble wrap into the can by the curb and held out a hand.

“Rudeness forgiven. Nice to meet you, Killian Jones.” He took her hand and shook it.

“And I you, Emma Swan.” He paused a moment, thinking. “Swan is a beautiful last name. Enchanting.”

“You like that word, don’t you?” he gave her a questioned look of confusion. “Enchanting. You used it last night, too.”

“Well, in this town, you will grow to find it quite useful.” And with that, Killian Jones jogged away.

 


	2. Heaven's Diner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse all grammatical errors, my laptop keys can some times be really slow. I hope you guy like this chapter, although I'm not quite sure if I do. And thank you for all of the nice comments, AND 340 reads! I already know you guys are the best!

Aside from her partly sore butt, Emma was in a genuinely good mood the following morning. She had decided to visit this for-said diner that morning, maybe get some left-overs for the next week or so until she had time to go shopping. After saying a quick hello to Killian on his routes, Emma climbed into her bug (in which she did not want to recite how it got into her possession) and made her way to Main Street. After driving around for a moment or so, she came across a welcoming place that looked a little under date, but so was the rest of the town.

Pulling into the front of it, she took a deep breath and pulled her keys out of the ignition. Slumping back into her seat, her eye that was trailing in her lap caught a familiar head of hair. Looking up, Emma found Killian’s route also consists of Main Street. Giggling to herself, she climbed out of her car and walked around it. He was quite close now, slowing down, to probably say hello again. Emma took a lingering glance at the diner in front of them before returning her eye to him.

“It looks like you took my suggestion granted, Swan.” With a quick exhale in the form of a laugh, she looked back up at it, mimicking killian.

“Yeah, well, I was getting a little tired of cereal every day. Besides, the milk is low in my place anyway.” He glanced at her for a second before speaking.

“Would you mind a breakfast of French Toast and Hot Chocolate? All on my account?” She gave him a closed smile.

“I accept your offer.”

Killian took her hand without any hesitation and started to head to the door steps of the diner. Opening the door, he called out.

“Good Mornin’, Granny!” Emma widened her eyes at his sudden outburst after seeming like a quiet man. She already felt the blush form in her cheeks.

“Morning, Killian! The usual?” an older woman came into view, walking swiftly back and fourth behind a counter giving people their dishes.

“Aye, mind doubling it?” Behind him, Emma was turning redder and redder.

“No problem. It’ll be out in five minutes, make yourself comfortable!”

Killian guided Emma to a booth on the left side of the diner. Sitting down, she watched him do the same.

“So…is this your strategy of asking girls out? Suggesting your favorite restaurant and then coming every day until they decide to show up?” she received a chuckle from Killian from her creative comment.

“No, I saw your struggle, so I came to help. This was entirely your choice.”  She had to agree with him, it was her decision to come, and she needed an actual breakfast as well. Glancing across the table, her eyes both caught a hint of blue, making her double check Killian’s appearance. With a second look , she saw his eye were a coated blue, mixing with all the shades.

“Such a gentleman.” She complimented.

“Aye, well, many would agree.”

“Example ‘B’ on Killian Jones’s way of getting girls.”

“You’re not the trusting type, are you, Love?”

“Nope.”

 

* * *

 

 

Soon enough, a teenager walked over to their table with two plates of the French toast and Hot Chocolate. Emma did not like to stereotype, but with her red highlights and dark eyeliner, the girl’s bright smile was the only thing telling others she was not Goth.

“Hey Killian. Who’s this?” she asked, placing the mugs and plates in front of each of them. Aside from her clothing, the waitress looked kind, a smile you would go to when upset.

“I’m Emma Swan. Moved here earlier this week.” Emma greeted. Looking down at her food, her appetite only indeed grew.

“Well, I’m Ruby. My Granny owns the place.” Emma nodded and gave and small smile. She was about to take a sip of her Hot Cocoa when the whipped crème touched her upper lip, a reminder of her special touch. “Oh, is it okay if I can maybe get cinnamon on this? I uh…yeah.”

“Of course! I should’ve asked.” Within a blink, Ruby was walking back to the counter with Emma’s mug in her hand. Turning back to Killian from glancing at her, she found him smiling a devilish grin at her.

“What?” she could not wipe the grin off her face.

“I can’t help but compliment your rather clever taste, Swan.”

“Oh come on. Just because I like cinnamon on my cocoa makes me a clever taster—or however, you say that—“ She jokingly complained. Emma had to admit—after the many days not saying a word to the outside world; the small breakfast he was giving her was quite comforting. It has been awhile since a man has asked her to coffee, and even though it doesn’t really count, this morning brought back the feeling.

In the right time to break the conversation, Ruby returned with Emma’s Hot Chocolate. Emma quietly said “Thank You” as she looked back down at the mug, its placement perfect enough to be in a movie. Alas, she took a sip.

“Now _that_ is a good cup o’ cocoa.”  The delicious substance only made Emma want to try the French toast, in which sat on the plate as perfect as the cocoa

“I apologize for my comment before, Emma. Believe it or not, it was supposed to be a compliment. I baby sit—“

“Wait, _you_ babysit?”

“Yes, Love, a man needs extra money somehow.”

“Well then, what is your main job?”

“I help load and sail ships at the harbor—now,’”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I interrupted—“

“Its fine, Love. Now, His name is Henry. Every day, I run my route, and eat breakfast here. Henry and I meet here at 9:00, he orders the same as you asked. Hot cocoa with cinnamon. He’s a very clever and…creative boy. You will meet him in a few minutes, actually. I watch him until twelve.”              

“How old?”

“Ten.” She smiled.

“Cute.”

They both started to eat their meals. Emma was obviously very impressed and in love with the dish, groaning and rolling her eyes back each bite.

“God, this place is Heaven’s Diner on Earth.” Emma complimented, following many more. The diner was unreal—she was definitely returning for lunch the next day.

 

* * *

 

 

At 9:00, the front door of the diner’s bell jingled, interrupting Emma and Killian’s discussion on how she can get an application to work at the sheriffs’ station. A young boy walked in with darker hair, a scarf around his neck and a bag on his back. He carried a used-looking notebook under his arm.

“I’m assuming that’s Henry?” Emma guessed, following the boy with her eye as he made his way to the table.

“Aye.” He turned his body to get a better view at Henry, who was grinning widely and starting to take the notebook out from under his arm. “Mornin’, Mate! What do you have there?”

“Hey Killian! Check out the last chapter of that Fairytale story I wrote!” he opened the notebook and set it in front of Killian. Overlooking the written, Emma saw both pages were filled with a fine print, one that is impressive for a ten-year-old. Emma raised her eyebrows. Henry looked up at her, first realizing her presence. “Who’s this?”

“I uh, I’m Emma. Killian here is my new neighbor; he was showing me around. It’s nice to meet you, Henry. Killian was just telling me about you.” He grinned and turned to killian, who was clearly still reading the story. Henry nudged him and attempted to wink, earning a chuckle and a shake of his head. He turned back to Emma.

“He’s a gentleman to pretty girls like you.” He loudly whispered, intentionally. The comment once again was like a butter knife, spreading a coat of red from her head to finger tips.

“Why don’t you go order your Hot Chocolate now, Henry.” Killian suggested, quite uncomfortably.

“I like your taste, Emma.” Henry complimented, before walking to the counter and sitting on a stool. They both watched as he walked away, before Emma broke out laughing.

“That was the most…adorable thing I have participated in! How cute can that kid get?!” Although Emma was hysterical, Killian was on the opposite end rubbing his face with his right hand, clearly embarrassed. “Aw, Killian… He’s just a kid. Don’t get yourself all riled up.”

“I’m sorry, swan. He’s a quite imaginative boy when it comes to love.” Killian once again apologizes for an over-thought subject. With the statement he handed Emma the notebook in which she started reading immediately. She had to say, this kid was not the normal ten year old boy when it came to imagination, and she realized it in the first sentence.

“Wow,” she raised her eyebrows.

“He is very into Fairytales. Does twists on them.” he explained. “The one you are reading now is the end of Snow White.”

“Cool.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you going to come with us?” Emma looked down at Henry. He looked too hopeful for her to refuse.

“I guess I can maybe…Look around a bit, sure.” He grinned widely. She took a moment to get her phone out of her car before they started their way to the right. “Isn’t the harbor…that way, from what I remember?” she recalled, pointing to the opposite direction.

“Yeah, but all of the exciting things are down this way. Ice Cream, Library, Pawn Shoppe—they also have an animal shelter.”

“To the right it is, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

“That’s the ice cream shop. Ingrid makes the best Rocky Road you can have.”  Henry says as they walked past the parlor. “And…that, over there is the Clock Tower. Under it is a library. Belle is really nice.” Emma smiled at the irony in the small town as he also showed her where the post office, Pawn Shoppe, and his school were all located.

“Hey, lad, how about we show her your special castle?” Killian suggested as they turned on a corner.

“Oh, actually, I better be getting home… you know, I still need to unpack, and probably get started on the dishes…”

“Of course, Love. We will see you tomorrow.” Killian agreed, knowing how much work a new comer has to put up with. After telling Henry it was nice to meet him, she said a quick farewell to Killian before waking back to her Bug. The smile on her lips seemed plastered on as she could not take it off. 

Putting her to-go bag in her passenger seat and plugging her keys into the ignition, Emma decided to check out the Sheriff’s station on her way home. After a small ride around the diner she managed to find it located a street behind it. She noted the reasonableness of the placement of building before pulling into a parking space outside the main entrance. By the time she did, anxiety started to overtake her thoughts. _Is my hair oaky? Did I park in the wrong spot? Are they even open? Of course they are open, Emma. This is a police station. What do I even say?_

Rubbing her sweaty palms together, she took a deep breath. _Stop over reacting, your fine. Just go in there, and say you need a job. That’s it, done._ Without letting her mind over take her actions once again, Emma grabbed her files from under her car seat and opened the door. A heavy sigh escalated her shoulders before she started walking towards the door. But went she went to pull on the handle, the door appeared looked.

“Goddamn my luck,” she said, rubbing her forehead. Her actions’ results in the last few days proved that any sort of luck was not a part of her, this showing proof. Checking the time, which appeared 9:29; Emma sighed and made her way back to her car. At least, now she knew the business days.

“Wait!” furrowing her eyebrows, Emma turned back around to the entrance of the station. There, behind the glass doors stood a man about her age. She knew his eyes were a light blue from her stance, considering they looked too light t be any other color, bringing yet another Prince Charming to the town. Due to the farmer-boy gear he was wearing, the only thing telling her he was an employee at the station was his badge he strapped to his belt. His blonde hair and charming smile added to the proof he wouldn’t be turned down in a casting role of a Prince. “Sorry, we should really put a ‘Push’ sign on this door…”he said, easily pulling them open from the inside. “It’s my lunch break. Come on in.”

 

“So, why are you here today? You don’t really look familiar, and we don’t get a lot of those.” He started, walking into the main part of the station.

“Oh, I uh, just moved here earlier this week. Looking for a job, that’s all.”  She walked slower behind him, taking in the place.it looked cozy for a police office, less threatening. At least compared to the ones in Boston she came across.

“Welcome to Storybrooke, then. Like I said before, we don’t get a lot of new faces. I’m David Nolan.” He reached out his hand in which she took.

“Emma Swan.” She handed him the files in her hand. He guided her to the seat across from the desk.  “That is all my paper work available, what you are holding.” He held up the small stack of about thirty pages, not one being a birth certificate.

“This is…all you have?” he was in clear disbelief.

“Crappy childhood.’” Emma was used to saying that whenever applying for jobs, hoping they would understand she was not lying and let her take the job without any calls to the government. “Abandoned at birth, foster homes, you know. Depressing topic.”

“Well, I’m…sorry,” he started to apologize. “Must’ve been tough. “

“It was at the time but I grew on it. I mean, it was in the past. The only time it matters is like right now, going to a job interview without information or a birth certificate. Guess that the hardest part. I just grew up to become a bail-bonds person in Boston. It paid good enough money to let me move into my own place.”

“So, in another words, you are experienced in this industry?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, good. But, just hear me out. I trust you, one-hundred percent, don’t get me wrong. But in order t work in such a small town like this, I’m going to have to make a quick phone call to the government, because we need certain information it your file. I’ll call you back, okay? Just leave me your phone number.” He gave her a piece of paper and pen, where she quickly scribbled down her number for home and cell. Handing it to him, she said a quick “Thank you” to him before walking out, yet again with another smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a lot happened in this chapter, I guess. I'm not sure if I like how I wrote this chapter, but I will give my self credit on how fast I uploaded it:) again, thank you for the nice comments, I would love more!*hint hint* See Youguys soon!


	3. Uncompleted Collections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! My laptop is currently in the shop right now, and sadly my mobile devices do not save italics. Please bare with me. [see updates info at the end]

Emma was floating in pure bliss as she settled in her living room. In under a week, she was able to find a job, friends, eating locations, and mostly unpack. She for once thought things were going to work out, something that didn't happen often.   

When she was home, Emma collapsed into her kitchen chair, sighing happily. The kitchen was done; looking around the newly unpacked room added more enjoyment to her scale. The granny's takeout bag was placed on the table, and the whiff of its French toast reminded her to store it. 

Opening the refrigerator, Emma noted to go food shopping the next day after seeing almost nothing was in her pantry. She never would've thought that she would get sick of cereal, but in her mind those days have came to an end. 

(She knew it wouldn't be held for long, of course. Cereal would always be a part of her diet)

(she definitely did not imagine waking up in Killian's bed with him serving her some Lucky Charms and a freshly cut banana, either)

Discluding her thought of life without it, she wondered how Mary Margaret was doing, now having the place to herself in no fear of her roommate walking in on anything. Pulling out her phone, she dialed her number. 

The phone rang on the other side twice before a voice bloomed in Emma's ears.   
"Emma!" Mary Margaret's voice beamed.   
"Hey!" Emma responded, adding a little cheer for the sake of a lecture. 

"How are you holding up?" Some clatters were in the background, a small muffle following the question. Emma laughed a little in the thoughts of Mary Margaret only making breakfast now, at 11:30. 

"It's uh, it's pretty good. People here are great, all seem to know eachother." Emma wrapped an arm around her torso and took her gaze to the kitchen window. 

"Oh, that's lovely. What is the town called again? Storybook? Or was it-"

"Storybrooke, yep. Name fits quite well, actually."

"And what do you mean by that? Oh, don't tell me people live in castles...is the mayor called King, or Queen instead? have you spotted any unicorns?"

"No, no, ha-ha. It's just the town in general. it seems...enchanting, I guess." She confused herself on the choice of words, wondering how she's already caught onto Killian's accent. 

"Wow, Emma." She said breathlessly. Almost a hint of hope and questioning in her voice. "You're using the word enchanting now. This move is really helping you, I take."

"Well..." Emma wondered if she should tell Mary Margaret about Killian, the jogger who she's stalked for her first week. Figuring she should ignore it until they see eachother again, assuring that he's not just a bypass that introduced her around town, she made a quick excuse. "I guess you catch onto it, here." A nervousing silence broke for a second. 

"Mmhmh" making a crooked smile on the other side, Emma cringed realizing that she wasn't buying it and Emma would have to explain later. Cutting Mary some slack, Emma herself wouldn't fall for it. She didn't use those kind of words. It simply did not consist in her vocabulary. 

"Listen uh...im expecting a call for a job, so we need to wrap it here..." she said, desperately wanting to relax. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah of course. Text me tonight, too. 

"Okay. So yeah... bye."

"Bye, Emma." Emma took her phone from her ear. "Oh, and wait Emma,"

"Yeah?"

"I know there's a guy." Her eyes widened as the line went dead. She brought her hand to her face to make sure the blush wasn't noticeable enough for Mary Margaret to see. Wait-but how did she see? They were talking over the phone...

She shook her head in attempt to clear her thoughts. Mary Margaret was just like that-perceptive. 

She always knew when there was a guy. In the short three years they were apartment mates, Mary knew even by the way Emma closed the front door. She would smile at Emma throughout dinner and when she cleaned the dishes before stopping her as they made way to bed. 

Emma has had plenty of 'acquainted' guys over those few years, but nothing like that-she didn't ever trust them enough. That was probably the reason they never stayed, and why she stopped telling Mary Margaret she thought 'he' was 'The One'. It never happened. And at the point she was in, Emma believed she was out of luck, out of choices. 

Making herself a plate of leftover takeout, she sat on her bed. Her feet were killing her, her mind was exploding, and her stomach did not want any more food. She ignored its plead and listened to her mind, telling her she was hungry. 

Storybrooke's news was different. When Emma turned the News 12 channel on, it said 'Channel not available' and she was forced to go to 980, or Storybrooke News. It only had the weather for the next two days and a couple stories currently going around the small town. Not having any signal to watch anything else, she stuck with it. 

 

-/-

She ignored going outside the next day. Emma stayed in bed (or mattress) for hours after she woke up at 6:23, staring into the stillness of her home. Everything was quiet. The only thing in her line of hearing was a light tap of gutter drops outside and her small, deep breaths. She was planning on knowing what time it was when Killian's taps past by, but they didn't. By the time 8:20, she regretted not getting his phone number to check up on him.

Emma traced the path of cracks between boxes with her eyes. They fell on one named "books" making her go into consideration on what to do next. 

She sat up and walked to the labeled box, a sudden let go of comfort on the side she'd been laying on. Unfolding the top flaps, she was met with all her old favorites- The Trumpet of the Swan, Charlottes Web-the stories that got her through foster care. She went through the pile full of Little Women, The Grimm's Fairytales made her smile... her finger brushed against a soft, dis shelving spine. She grabbed a hold of the book, still not able to see the cover. Pulling it out, she automatically recognized the tip of a wing as Harry Potter And The Prisoner of Azkaban.

Ah, the series that grew with her. 

She went through every book in the box, (which was not much; she left all of the ones she didn't ever read with Mary Margaret) and found only one more of the series. (The Goblet of Fire) She remembered how she found them at a thrift shop one day after reading the series in a library near her group home. Although she was only there for three months, Emma managed to have a generous amount of time given to read them before moving to her next location. She only had ten dollars on her, the monthly allowance, so she only bought her two favorites. Never got around buying the rest, nor had the money. 

She was still low on budget, and while rereading her favorite parts of the two books, she could not help but side track into why David hasn't called her yet. It worried her, because she didn't really have much experience in anything, and David seemed like the most generous person she can ask for. If she didn't get a job, she was doomed...emma was already only living on her last paycheck. 

Emma decided to stop worrying after awhile. 

(Or just got too into her books to do so)

But she started to worry again when a mysterious clacking came to her window. 

I knew this would happen, she thought. The monsters would come back some day.

She slowing laid the paperback beside her, suddenly feeling very spy-like. She dared to peak form her curtains, ready to fight whatever demon awaited. 

Oh, my god. 

You can't be serious. 

Killian stood outside her window, a stiff hand full of the small pebbles that lined her garden. She gave him a sarcastic smile before turning to meet him at her front door. 

"Thank gods you noticed, Swan." A smiling Killian greeted. "My arm was getting quite sore."

"Why didn't you pass by today?" She asked, skipping right into questions. 

"Observant, are we? I work at the docks Friday to Sunday at 5:00-10:00. a man needs more money than what he would get as a babysitter...or ladsitter...kidsitter, is it?" 

"Hmh. Come inside." She then realized the slight scent of fish circling him, although it seemed mostly washed down with body wash. She brought him into the living room, or what she called it, any way. Most was still stacked with boxes and all of the furniture was pushed into one corner. She knew he was smiling behind her.

"Stop the mocking. This is all new for me."

"I'm not mocking, you, Swan. I'm smiling on how rather adorable you may come to be at times." She let out a fake sigh. 

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment, bu-"

"It was."

"Okay, well, I'm not sure if that was a compliment, but I need your....manly....arms...to do me a favor."

"And what do you need my manly arms for, now?" She averted her eyes to the furniture in the corner, hoping he gets the clue. "Ah, I should've guessed."  He chuckled and started to make his way over.

Emma kneeled down to turn music on. earning a confused glance from Killian. 

"It helps things move along, trust me." 

They started lifting and placing the furniture to designated spots. In only a short period of time, the living room was coming into place. Besides the back wall being blocked by boxes carrying decorations, the space was a welcoming location. 

"Would you mind, uh, helping me put my bed together? I'm not...carpentry...I don't..."

"Emma, you don't need a reason. Where's your bed room?"

"Up here." She guided him up a small staircase that only led to her bedroom with a guest across from it. 

He took a look around the room, each wall blocked by head boards and boxes.   
"Ah, you are a Harry Potter member too?" He took the book from its previous spot on the bed as she turned from closing the door. 

"Oh, um, yeah. The series helped me get through f--....stuff." Killian took his gaze from the book to Emma. 

"You are one of those mysterious beauty's, aren't you Swan?" He theoried and raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh, so there are others?" She asked between a smile. 

"None that I've crossed paths with, no." He said, surprisingly seducively. "But, that may have changed, because I see one right infront of my own eyes."

They were surpassingly close. He was staring dearingly into her eyes with his own, her sharp green affecting his beautiful blue. Emma carried to keeping her eyes off his plump lips, cracked from the November chill. 

But they were so hard to not look at. Between the pink color and slick texture from that tongue of his, it was impossible not to. She quickly resumed all the times in her head over the past couple of days her eyes were in line with them. For once, Emma thanked God for this perfect height. She frankly knew silence was dragged for an awkward amount of seconds, meaning she needed to say something so she didn't look as love-struck.

"I knew you were one of those guys from the first time i saw you jogging past my house." She assured with a smile. 

"Aye, Swan. I knew you knew from the first time I glanced at you."

"Ah, so now you're an observant guy, too." 

"Only to the beauties, love." She rolled her eyes and took the book from his hands  
As well as the one on her bed and placed them on a empty bookshelf by the window. Killian made his way to the box full of books on the opposite wall.

"You don't need to help me with everything, you know." He continued to look through her collection for an unknown reason. 

"Aye, I do. Hey lass, I don't seem to locate any other of the Harry Potter books. They're in a different box, I gather?" 

"Oh, actually, uh no. I only have the two. Couldn't afford much in my childhood."

"You don't have the whole series? What?"

"Um...yeah..."

"I shall change that, one day."

"What do you mean?"

"Think it through, love." That meant many things once she thought about it. Forcing her to buy them herself, giving his own to her...many possiblities."

"Anyways, on a different note. My mate, Neal, is having a party tomorrow night, and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me? Maybe meet the town?" She was a little unsure about his offer, considering she has not received a call for the job as an officer yet and would hate to lose it due to being found at a party. Although David did seem young, and may let it pass with empathy. 

"Alright, fine. But only if I get your contact."

"You have my word, Swan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Just to assure everyone, I will not ever abandon without informing you guys. This very late updat was because my extremely busy skedules for both updating and life. I was trying to finish up a story that's been in my way, as well as get a lot of my ideas on paper (or screen) sadly they are not Captain Swan, but if you are interested in The Hunger Games feel free to check out my Wattpad (atthewritemind) for some Everlark fan fictions. Updates on this story are going to be slow, but I promise they will come around a couple times a month.

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning on writing this as a drabble or one-shot, but fell in love with the idea! I'm not sure how many chapters i plan writing, but I hope you guys liked the first part! Please use a moment to leave a comment? I'd really appreciate it! Thank you!


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